Christmas in February
by Sorchafyre
Summary: A minor character's look at the 27th Precinct as he delivers presents.


Acknowledgements and Disclaimers: FAKE and its associated characters belong to Sanami Matoh, I'm just sneaking onto her playground drawing a hopscotch board with a rock. No money was harmed, or exchanged, during the making of this story. Thank you to Anthey Oom for the quick beta look.  
  
Authors note: Set shortly after the end of the series. This is from the POV of an extremely minor character. If anyone remembers Jim Campbell before reading this without looking him up, you get a Ryo cookie.

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The folks at the Bronx Station were used to my strange sense of humor. It will take the 27th Precinct a bit longer to adapt, I think. Part of my job as head of the Forensics Lab for a busy NYC police station is dealing with bodies, sometimes only body parts. Most of us adapt by being a little odd. Of course, the officers do the same, so most of them understand.  
  
Today was the day to introduce my new Precinct to my favorite tradition: Christmas in February. I only gave out gifts once a year, and the February 25th was the day. The crass commercialism surrounding Christmas, as well as remembering to be 'politically correct' and call it the 'holidays' turns me off the whole idea in December. And Christmas in July has become so cliche.  
  
This then, is where my warped sense of humor comes in.  
  
See, I hate February. Absolutely hate it. Winter has come in, stayed for the party, and passed out on the couch. No promise of spring there. No paid holidays in sight until you drag yourself the length of the calendar to May and Memorial Day. And don't even get me started on Valentine's Day. February has always been a cesspool of a month, so I try to brighten it up a bit.  
  
Ah, there's Janet. She can be my first stop. I toss my box on the counter. Digging out a little tissue-paper tree, I fold it into it's proper 3-D shape and perch it in front of her while she's looking at me in astonishment.  
  
You wouldn't believe how cheap you can rent a Santa suit in February.  
  
I finally have her laughing as I explain the premise to her. Actually, it's a good thing I started here; by the time I've made my way into the inner sanctum of the building I'm sure everyone will have the whole story. The girl's an incurable gossip, within the station of course. She's much too professional to talk elsewhere.  
  
See, there's another thing about me. I observe people. When your job requires you to be precise, literal and above all strict unto exacting legal standards you learn to notice all the details very quickly. People think they want to be understood, but they don't really. It makes them uncomfortable when they know how much their actions and attitude reveal.  
  
On the other hand, it lets me pick out good presents.  
  
Janet's is a calendar, you know the one with half-naked fireman for every month? I didn't know she could squeal that loud. Bet it's up on the wall before I clear the doorway.  
  
I'm walking down the hall, balancing the box as best I can around my fake padding, when I spot another easy one. Ted's one of those 'lost' people. He drifts through life, content to become what other people think he should be, living the stereotype. His jaw drops when he spots me and I have to explain again. This time I just plunk the box down in the hallway to present the paper tree and his package. He stares at the gift certificate from the community college in obvious bewilderment. I detail some of the more exotic classes I've seen in the brochure. Did you know you can get college credits for going on an archeological dig? Or that they have a course called 'Bioengineering for Dummies'? You don't get credit for it, but they've even got a trip to Ireland. I saw a speculative gleam in his eye as I walked away. That man needs a hobby in the worst way.  
  
Ah, now here's a fun one. Poor Drake just has no idea why he goes through girlfriends so fast. He says it's 'cause he's married to his job, and in a way I suppose that's true. But he's way too impulsive for his own good, and he'd promise you the moon without any idea of how to deliver. His heart's in the right place, so that's why we all enjoy having him around. He looks nonplussed to receive his tree and package. Two courtside tickets to the next Knicks home game. Should be interesting to see if he invites JJ.  
  
Ah, I can corner my favorite couple at the same time. Ryo is just stepping out of the office he and Dee share, so I snag him and pull him back in. Janet's obviously spread the word; Dee's grinning up at me waiting for a present. They each get a tree, too. Ryo waits while Dee unwraps his, a lighter with the yin/yang symbol. He stares at it a moment, then breaks into a huge smile, giving me a wink and Ryo a cocky grin. Dee's one of my few friends here at the precinct, and I never make the mistake of underestimating his intelligence.  
  
Ryo gives me a speculative glance before opening his present. Almost a friendly challenge and I'm glad I took the time to make this one. He stares wide-eyed at the tableaux before putting it very carefully on his desk. It took me almost a month to locate, glue and paint a little house with three figures outside; a kid with a backwards baseball cap, a dark- haired guy leaning against the house smoking, and a sandy-haired man with a rifle. Alright, that last one was a bit weird for the domestic scene, but it amused me. You'd be amazed at what kind of miniatures you can find at a gaming store nowadays.  
  
I'll have to knock for this next one. Odds of catching the Commissioner out of his office at this time of day are slim. I'm getting quicker at twisting the tree into shape, so I get to see the amusement growing in Rose's eyes as I explain my premise. His sense of humor is quite close to my own, but he's not the kind of guy you go out for a few drinks with after work. I think I respect him more than any other superior I've ever worked for, the man is ruthlessly efficient on the job, and understands people almost as well as I do.  
  
Before I give him his gift though, I have to make him promise to deliver Diana's to her. I know he'll wait until next time she's in town, but that's what I'm counting on. He'll be there when she opens the box containing her new dress, and that woman will never miss an opportunity to take our dear Commissioner out to dinner to 'show it off'. She'll win him over yet, I've got faith in her.  
  
Rose's gift was the hardest one this year. Reminding me of Dee as he so often does, he stares at the leather-bound copy of Alice's Adventures In Wonderland before grinning devilishly as the allusion hits home. I'm delighted he understands the dry wit and I wonder if he'll have as much fun casting our coworkers in this madness.  
  
The box was getting lighter now, only two more to go. There's the chief, one more off my checking-it-twice list. We're not even remotely near his desk, so he gets to try to hold his little tree while unwrapping his present. I think he's going to have a fit of apoplexy if he keeps trying not to laugh at the stuffed walrus dressed in a hawiian shirt. Finally he snorts, and pretends to be offended. I notice he tucks the thing under his arm as he walks back to his office, though.  
  
Finally, the best for last. JJ's my delightful little treat. Oh, not like that, I'm not in love with the guy or anything. But he's so much fun to watch, like dust motes dancing in the air, endlessly fascinating. Champagne for the soul, that's JJ Adams. Anyone could predict he'd open his present like that, paper flying all over as he tears into it. When he reveals the bottle of Courviassier and the signed Ella Fitzgerald honest-to- God-record, he goes very still. EBay is the best invention since sliced bread.  
  
His eyes flick up to me, then back to the box, making the circuit one more time in shocked awe. Finally, he just thanks me and closes the box back up, walking quietly and very gently off. With JJ, the silence is more eloquent than a hug.  
  
Sometimes being the only one that understands is a very, very satisfying thing.  
  
I dump the empty box and go back to the lab. This suit is incredibly itchy and I can't wait to get out of it. How do those mall guys do it hours on end with squirming, sticky kids in their laps? Of course they get paid for it, so maybe that's it.  
  
Wait until the 27th sees what I do for Halloween.


End file.
